Xiao Shaosheng Dotes on His Billionaire Wife

Pale curtains, pale sheets, pale faces. There was dementia on her face, and there was no movement in Wen Qing's pale pupils. Her hands and feet were imprisoned, and Wen Qing was tied to the hospital bed. Her pale pupils looked at the pale ceiling, and scenes from the past flashed through Wen Qing's mind. "Kacha..." The crisp sound was like an alarm bell from hell. The closed ward was opened, footsteps were heard, and two figures walked quietly to the bed. "Xiao Yuran, what's wrong? Looking at his pitiful appearance, are you feeling distressed?" …